Read Between The Lines
by Fearlessintheskies
Summary: This was /never/ the plan when it comes to thde kind of things. All you were supposed to do was turn an insignificant human being, being for all you knew, patrick stump into a demon. Simple right? But things get compromised when you start remembering your human side and fall for the snarky fedora-wearing singer. Oh hell yes, you're a nervous wreck. Fall Out Boy slash.


_"They tell you a good girl is quiet and that you should never ask why_  
_'Cause it only makes it harder to fit in_

_..._

_You gotta scream until there's nothin' left with your last breath_  
_Say here I am, here I am, make 'em listen_  
_'Cause there's no way you'll be ignored not anymore" - Camp Rock_

Screaming is what you always wanted to do. Scream until you had nothing left, no voice, until you were out of breath, Make everyone listen to you. Make everyone see you. Not what they paint you to be. Not as someone's bitch, or anything. You. Hell was probably the better half of your life. The blazing fire, the screams, the other demons like you, no one daring to make fun of you because 1. you all were demons and 2. you would rip them into pieces. Oh, and you had connections to Lucifer. He was the first to befriend you after all. Being human was the worst experience anyone could go through. Your mother, the only one who understood but neglected you, your father, never being the father you always dreamed of. Your life, never happy. Always being hurt, deceived, teased, made to make choices you knew were wrong but did it because that was the only way things would work and the pain would go away. Its funny how we lie to ourselves and say we don't care or thats it going to be okay. We know its a big load of crap. We listen to nursery rhymes that say

_"Hush, little baby, don't say a word._  
_Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird_

_And if that mockingbird won't sing,_  
_Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring"_

Well what if your papa didn't do that for you? What if you were never able to be as happy as everyone else got to be? And they wonder why you never want to go back to being human. The alluring fire was too great.

* * *

"Hell no." Your dad says coldly, not even bothering to look at you. His face was always buried in his work and everyone but the one he was biologically supposed to actually give a shit about. "I will not have your follow your mother's footsteps."

You immediately feel a twinge of pain that pools in the bottom of your stomach. Did he really have to bring up your mom? Everyone knew that was the Apollo 13 of sore spots for you. You sighed, picking at the lint balls that's always seems to accumulate on your black jacket and wiped the tears from your face.

"But dad," you tried again, " I really can't-"

"That's enough. I don't want to hear it." He interrupted callously, pushing past you to start dinner. Pans clattered and he set about creating his latest dish. "how many times do I have to say 'no'? He glared at you, "grow up."

Your heart fell to your feet, this was why you liked your mom better despite everything. At least she understood what you were going through.

"Mom," you thought, angrily walking to your room, "I miss you..." You felt teardrops glide down your cheeks and walked faster. "so much...dad doesn't understand me..." You slammed the door with such a force your door was freckled with slithering cracks,reducing the integrity of the door, and ran into the arms of safety and comfort that was your bed. You hoped your dad heard that, it'd give him an actual reason to get on your case instead of yelling at you for the most irrelevant things.

"I've missed you so much.." Why did you keep saying that? _Stop. Ignore those thoughts. Get away while you aren't emotionally shredded._

_Oh wait. Too late._

Your thoughts kept double crossing you; running ramped with thoughts of how it should be, what it could be, anything but how it is now. Anything but that. Fuck. You thought, haphazardly smearing away the crystal droplets forming on your cheeks. This was insane. You weren't supposed to be thinking of her but it was becoming increasingly more commons for her to invade your thoughts. The thing was, you didn't care if you were like your mom, you were you. You just wanted it to all stop. For all the bad feelings and cold hearted people to stop. You wanted to believe again.

As you stared up at the ceiling, surrounded by the pitch black pool of darkness, the fires of hell blazed eternally in your honey colored eyes, shrugging off human emotion as much as you could as fast as you could. Feelings are fatal in this world. The inferno consumed your blackened heart, hardened by screams, those deliciously agonizing screams paired with the desperate look in their eyes and the bloody, nearly destroyed body, barely kept alive for the shear hope that you had mercy. Idiots. That's like waiting for a light that never comes. Those very screams that came by your hand, and you can't help but laugh as they succumb to death's grasp. And lucifer is in the background, his face couldn't have had more pleasure for the work of his prodigy executing this brilliant beautiful torture.

The thing is, you didn't choose this life. You weren't always a demon, but ever since you can remember fire and chains were your partners in crime. Broken bones and moans were the playlist you always had on repeat. And the light leaving your victim's eyes as they beseeched you a final time as you plunged a knife into their heart was your reward.

Cold hearted bitch has a nice ring to it doesn't it?

That was, until your boss Patrick Stump hired you and things always felt fuzzy when you were with him.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and somehow it managed to perform a suicidal backflip before you were able to catch it. You smiled when you saw the caller id but forced yourself to stop. "It's fucking 1 am what?" You said, toying with the zipper on your jacket.

"I can't sleep." Patrick said in a lower than normal voice. Your night voice was so..oops never mind.

"Yeah and?"

"Look out your window."

"Why..?" You ask, trying to keep a steady voice. Butterflies flood into your stomach and you shakily slip out of bed, more like fall out of bed and collide into the closet, dropping your phone. _Fuck_. You close your eyes, waiting for the terrifying sound of footsteps to appear and the yelling to begin. But all is still and deadly silent, except for the slight hum of the fan in your room. _So much stealth._ You shove all your things away from the corner of the room near the window just to squeeze in to pry open the ancient window and none other than Patrick Stump was leaning against the house.

"Don't you have anything better to do than drop by my house in the middle of the night?" You say, grabbing his hand to help him inside and hoping he couldn't see you smiling. You loved when he came over in the middle of the night. It made you feel...almost human. You mentally kicked yourself._ No. Stop. Remember your task._

Patrick let out a frustrated sigh, staring at the star scattered sky as though searching for something. "I was sitting at home writing the lyrics to the next song and I didn't get as far as I should have.

He slipped through the window in what should have been an effortless motion but resulted in him tripping over the mountains of clothes and unidentified objects and him collapsing on top of you. The weight of him pressed against you didn't help the butterflies raging in your stomach. Patrick laughed, pulling himself off of you just barely so that your skin, two fires burning together with such intensity were still touching. His bulge, pressed against your body, sending sparks flurrying through your body. H_urry, hurry you put my head in such a flurry... _

"I'm so Sorry" patrick apologized "I'm pretty clumsy when it comes to this sort of thing. Well pretty much anything that involves movement"

You let out a small, laugh. "You and me both Stump" Thankfully the dark fuzz of the night concealed the rosey blush that covered your cheeks. He was so warm it was not even funny. You cleared your throat "so-ahem-about that half assed song, sung what you've got as long as you have me up?"

Patrick sat up and smiled,still sitting in close proximity "you really want to hear my mess of a song?"

You pretended to think it over "well I mean I don't know, you're voice is kind of bad. Yes pat I would love to hear. You're brilliant. "

"Your funeral" Patrick laughed and cleared his throat "I only got as far as,

_"Fakes live in the dark alley that conceals their identity (I'll never tell you what I'm feeling)_

_You live to the right in all your perfect insanity (I'll never tell you what I'm feeling) "_

He was alive with the soul of music, his voice steady and alluring, his body convulsed with so much Intensity , so much life. Every note was a symphony of chords and just emotion.

_"I've tried forgetting you but you are wedged in the funhouse mind that is me (if you want me my feelings and I will be in the funhouse)_

_I think we really could be something (I'll never tell,tell, tell you)_

_Better than before (I'll Never tell,tell, tell you I love you)_

_But I think we could be, baby-"_

God his voice. Wow." That's as far as I could get before my wife and I tore into yet another fight" The singer said abruptly

"Yes I think I might have died (again) and gone to heaven" (_couldn't be more false_) You said, giving him a slow clap.

"Oh shut up" the singer asked,"any suggestions?"

_You could be the friction in my jeans._

"Wait what?" You asked incoherently. _Wow. Oops. Head out of the gutter._

"What are you thinking about?" Patrick asked randomly.

"Nothing" you sighed in a far away state. _Lie. I think I love you..no I do love you...have for awhile... That was what you wanted to say but it was clear you and him were nothing. It would never happen. You were a fool for thinking so. He loved Elisa now, not you. No matter what you did, he would not choose you. Telling him or anyone what you really thought and why you were so emotionless was pointless_.

He tilted your chin up to look at him, catching you off guard. _Was he going to kiss me? _You thought? _Hell no. Dream on hellfire babe._ Even in the moonlit darkness his murky green eyes were ablaze. As though they could see everything you felt. Knew the secrets you kept from everyone. That he could see right through your facade. The held an emotion though that you hadn't felt in awhile. Safety. Even as a demon, you never felt it. Part of the package. You live a life on the run. Highway to hell literally.

"No it's not nothing." He insisted. "You forget I hired you. You forget I can see right through you. I've always been able to."

_Oh. Well fuck._

You pulled away, pushing away the feelings you felt. As you've done so many times because hell, it's easier to. You were going to have a heart attack. I think you're giving me a heart attack. "I-it's noth-nothing.." You stuttered. S_uch a badass demon that can torture millions of useless souls but can't even pronounce a word without stuttering. "_Just some stupid thoughts I have sometimes." _Lie. Yeah every time I see you. _

"Stupid thoughts result in stupid actions," patrick whispered in your ear, making you shiver. He lifted your chin so your eyes could meet his gaze. You could feel him smiling. "So let's make a stupid choice."

Suddenly, before you could think, lips hot and wet and searching claimed yours. You were frozen in shock. This wasn't happening. It was like flying to the moon and back. Infinite, glorious, firey... He pushed you back against the floor as his tongue worked its way into your mouth, nearly making you dizzy, and stripped you of your shirt and sweats with slight clumsiness. Which was so like him. Nerdy and just..the reason you fell for him. He was the biggest nerd ever. Your's and his tongue moved together as though they were life long dance partners, a match made in heaven, dancing with such passion and life. There was a reason Tony Stark had used the term "silver tongue" to describe the gif of mischief's powerful lustful kiss. The same could be said here.

As the singer's hands roamed your body you squeezed your eyes shut to clear your thoughts. But it did not work. No matter what you did, sensations warmed your veins. He was kissing you like no man ever did. He had evoked forbidden desires you thought rotting in hell for years had burned out. You squeezed your legs tightly, imagining that he was between them. Damn him and damn yourself. _It's lust, nothing more._ You thought, trying to convince yourself as you felt his warm skin rub up against you. _No matter what, you were not going to submit to him._

And yet your mind betrayed you once again.

_"Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight  
It's hard to let it go"_

_Really? Of all songs this is what had to come to mind?_

_Fuck. Stop. Now. _

_Fucking stop._

_Fine, don't listen. But when you're a fucking puddle on the floor don't ask me to come mop you up. _

_Don't worry, Patrick would certainly lick it up._

_Were you seriously arguing with yourself? _

_Were you supposed to interact with actual people? Oops. _

"We're like fucking teenagers," he commented lightly, a shameless grin on his face as he broke the tension filled kiss. He groaned when your body met his, enjoying your position as you were comfortable nestled on his lap, your added height giving him a wonderful view of your...assets.

"I think you owe me an explanation Stump." You said horsely, trying not to sound winded. You had been willing to keep that kiss up for hours, but luckily he'd pulled back and realized what the fuck he was doing. He sat up and you had recomposed yourself without even bothering to straighten up your ruffled hair.

"Simple." Patrick said, winking amid the blue hued darkness, making you swoon all the more. _Holy fuck. Has Lucifer taught you nothing? Feelings are an overrated pile of shit._ "We find each other attractive, and we both know better than to think we'll become too attached by... how do you put it? 'Hooking up', every now and then."

Hooking up did not apply. It hadn't when you were human and you loathed thinking about that hell hole of your life. It still doesn't apply, but you grasped at it, clung to it like some virgin teenager who had no idea what the hell they were getting into.

Your silence apparently was enough for him to continue. His hands slid alongside your thighs until they reached your butt, cupping each cheek, and pulling you roughly against him, his mouth overcoming yours, his kisses more frantic as he felt desire course through his and your veins.

_This decision just might have been your biggest blunder, Stump._ You thought, breathlessly, trying to keep your thoughts steady and focused. You slid your hand down to undo his belt smirking when you heard him vocalize a sight moan as your hand ground against his formidable erection. Patrick balled his fists together, fully enjoying each movement your fingers made, each exhale had something unique, almost musical. He was a singer after all. You pulled his shirt off him and stole his jeans completely away, exposing nerdy boxers that you couldn't help but smile at, and ran your tongue down the length of his body, the skin beneath your tongue cold, hot, and almost sweet. You lowered yourself to his member and perched your mouth on his length, obviously hard. Your tongue flicked and glided over it, relishing when he tensed up and released over and over._  
_

The only material that was in the way was your bra. He allowed his hand to caress you through the lacey material and stripped you of the bra itself, cupping you as he continued to take advantage of your sweat soaked body, begging for more. You felt a hellbound burning in your cheeks. You wished you could say it was shame, but at the moment, you felt nothing but all-consuming want. You wanted Patrick. Wished he would stop teasing you. The experience was surreal and the pressure in your veins building up with each passing second made you doubt your sanity. _If you had any left. Which you were pretty sure was hanging by a thread. _His fingers tantalizingly fell to your panties, your wet panties, there was no denying it anymore, first one, two, then three of them made their way into the cavern that resided below. Each of them stretched and pushed, each finger rubbed a different realm of your nerves. Took you to another world, through time and space. You felt as though you were going to explode any moment, but surprisingly found no pain in any of the movements. Keeping your voice low, as to not wake anyone up, (how no one woke up was a mystery to you.) you moaned in ecstasy and arched your hips to meet his. For once, you felt. You didn't feel alone anymore. The fires of hell were still etched in your mind but they faded as his hardening brushed against the v-shaped area of your body. You never unlocked lips except to breathe, no room for dirty talk or asking permission here- this was about nothing but satisfying the heat, the anger, the need to just move. You, thinking back on it, was half tempted to start humming "You and me ain't nothing but mammals", but that might make things a little too weird. You had never really thought about it, (well you have a couple of times while accompanying Patrick for gigs, _No one was to ever know,_ but that was beside the point) Patrick was rough, and _deep_. Each thrust, following in rapid succession of the other, brought him further and further in, until he hit some sensitive spot that brought you from a series of breathless cries to literally gasping. Your head tilted back, flushed with warmth all the way down your body, and let out a low moan of encouragement. That spot was hit again, and your stomach flared with rising heat, far too early.

Fighting the urge in you to sink into submission (which you were pretty sure you had already), you pushed for dominance, smirking when Patrick moaned eagerly when your thumb began to roll over the head of his cock, finally bringing the friction you knew any human man was desperate for. _Told you I could be the friction in your jeans._ You kept it up at an unfairly taunting pace until Patrick was once again a panting mess beneath you.

When the sun stretched its far-reaching arms your eyes snapped open. _Did you seriously fuck Patrick Stump? _Your head fell back against the pillow of your bed as you looked over at the sleeping man. His face looked so serene, so childlike, so ..him. You quickly and quietly slip on your clothes and grab the sleeping man. Binding him with a rope you snatch him away, a knife tucked away in your back pocket.

_Too bad you had to kill him. Its a shame really. _

**So I dedicate this fan fiction to a friend of mine who is the biggest geek in the best of ways and loves Fall Out Boy. She said there were no good reader x Patrick Stump fanfics and I wanted to prove her wrong. Smutty enough for you? ;D**

**Welcome to the realm of insanity that are my fanfics. The realm of fearlessness that is my writing, and the pictures that are painted and woven with the words that I choose. I haven't written much in the past year so I hope that the new stories I write you all enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. The FrostIron fanfic is in the process of being written. It is literally in my notebook right now but I want it to be perfect before I post the next part of the chapter. The old FrostIron fanfic, Addicted, Im not sure if I'll continue that, but I will look it over and see if I can come up with the next part. **

**Stay weird fellow nerds.**

**~Fearlessintheskies**


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